My dad rested exactly 15 years ago today.

Up until his death, ours was a cold relationship. He was not present in my life. He wasn’t in the life of my siblings either. His was a life that, mostly, I can only take lessons of – what not to do as a father.

Yet I have a lot that I owe tribute to my father “Taratibu” as his peers fondly referred to him.

1. Dad was a strict disciplinarian. This is a guy who would not tolerate nonsense. This was not limited to his sons only (I don’t have a sister), but even other children from the neighborhood. Our home would quickly turn into a correctional facility at the slighted indication of mischief between myself and my kindred. Dad would punish us for making the compound litter as a result of our play. I hated play because I was avoiding the beating. No wonder the only sport that I can do today is thinking. Growing up, I hated football. I did not do football. I have only come to like the game because I am a father of sons and need to have a meaningful conversation with them.
2. Dad was a neat freak almost bordering an OCD. This is a guy who would go wash his hands as soon as you had a handshake with him. I remember the level of detail that he would go to in preparing the gourd to ferment some sour milk. He trusted not that mum would do a good job in ensuring ISO:34067 standard of cleanliness when it came to the process of preparing home made sour milk “mala”.
3. Dad was a man who valued excellence and wanted it in me. Being a teacher only made the case serious. He made me develop my love for literature at an early stage. Never mind that I skipped several stages in my formative stages – after all, he was fully responsible over my cognitive development. He was my teacher at home. Dad would give me a page to read and demand that I summarize to him what I had read. I recall with nostalgia one moment when I bumped into his dictionary and started reading it. Remember this was in today’s equivalent of Grade I. I started reading the book. My frustration was that I could hardly recall what I had read a moment later. I had to confess to him that day that the new story book was too hard to grasp and summarize.

I owe my dad Post humus for the investment he made in me at my formative stages.

A father calls out the best in their children. I have read posts today that say a father is the first hero to his son, and first love to his daughter.

Fatherhood is a responsibility and a privilege. I salute all fathers and father figures for selflessly giving themselves to this calling. Ours is a hard task but doable. Let’s be man enough and by God’s grace rise to the occasion.

…. and let’s agree that Germany are WC2018 Champions ….